


Shade's Journal -- The Moving Finger

by Devilc



Series: Shadows and Lanterns [4]
Category: DCU, DCU - Comicverse, JSA
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-07
Updated: 2010-03-07
Packaged: 2017-10-07 19:05:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/68230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Devilc/pseuds/Devilc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Shade's actions at Jade's funeral, Alan Scott stops in for a chat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shade's Journal -- The Moving Finger

**Author's Note:**

> The quoted poem is from _The Rubayat of Omar Khayyam_

I was doing battle with the aphids attempting to decimate my rose bushes (and for the record, nothing yet beats a teaspoon of good, old fashioned Fels-Naptha soap dissolved in a quart of water) when Alan Scott decided to invite himself over for the afternoon.

The man had the sense to announce his presence rather than take me completely unawares; as it was he caught me in my dungarees, t-shirt, knee pads, broad brimmed straw hat, and all the other accouterments of the serious gardener. Call it vanity, but I prefer to entertain guests only when suitably clad for the occasion.

That said, I also had the sense not to get too pissy and snippy with a person whose gifts (like mine) are bounded by little more than his imagination. (Though, I did have a wood-hafted hoe to hand -- ha ha -- as if that would be my weapon of choice.)

"Nice day for gardening."

Actually, it was. The last days of an Indian Summer. A few fluffy clouds in the sky. The sun-warmed earth gave off that wonderful rich smell of ... life, really.

"Is there some sort of emergency, Mr. Scott?"

"Alan. No, why?"

"You have arrived rather unannounced."

He had the couth to look a tad abashed.

"And, how did you find me?"

"That would be telling," he said.

"Heh. Hoisted on my own petard," I muttered.

He shrugged. "Well, there's also the fact that if you do have a phone, it's got the world's most unlisted telephone number."

Actually, I do have a phone. (Not that the phone company is aware of it.)

"Well, what was so important that you had to come see me as is?" I asked.

"Todd told me about what happened at Jennie's funeral. Jay just confirmed it."

Oh. It's not as if Alan Scott has never seen me dispense a bit of rough justice before. He was there when I dealt with the infernal Mr. Pip.

"Come to haul me in, then?" I asked a bit too casually.

"Not if I can help it."

I snorted in mirth and invited him in for a glass of lemonade.

When we were both seated and had ice cold glasses in front of us I said, "Well?"

"The problem with you, Shade, is you're a loose canon."

"Flattery will get you nowhere."

"Look, we've had a bad experience with one black hat trying to put on the white -"

"Interesting that you should compare me to Black Adam."

He groaned and ran his hands through his hair. "Where does it stop with _you_, Shade? When will we wake up and discover that you've crossed a line we cannot ignore? Hell, we shouldn't even be ignoring -- criminal or not, what you did with Degaton was murder."

I chose not to dignify that statement with a response.

"Do you have anything to say for yourself?" Alan asked.

_"The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ,_  
Moves on: nor all your Piety nor Wit  
Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line,  
Nor all your Tears wash out a Word of it" I replied.

He threw his hands into the air. "What's that supposed to mean?!" 

"It means," I replied, "That I am well aware of the consequences of the actions I take. Especially since, in that case, I took them against Degaton, a person for whom that rule did not necessarily apply. The temptation was certainly there to ask if he could have altered several events in my past ..." My voice trailed off as I thought of Sanderson Ludlow and Marguerite, of Brian Savage's murder, of the day I met the Ludlows, of the night I acquired my powers. "But once **that** starts, where would it have ended?

"I certainly have no intention of taking over the world, or a country, or even a zipcode, if that's what you're getting at." I took a swallow of my lemonade. "Do as your conscience dictates, Alan, I won't hold that against you. I admire your integrity, if not your sense of costume design. But be aware, I shall also do as my conscience dictates, especially when certain lines are crossed." Not that I would fight back any harder than I needed to in order to escape.

He quaffed his drink and said, "You have a conscience, and yet, you don't act."

"Ah, here we are again. _Why aren't I a hero_?"

"Yes. There's so much you could do."

"Have you ever considered that in not acting, I do more for mankind than if I did?"

He took another long swallow, complimented me on how good my lemonade was (it's the tiny snip of fresh lavender I put into the pitcher) and said, "Oh _really_?"

"How powerful are you, Alan?" Before he could answer, I continued, "Wherever there is a shadow, I can be. I can, if I so desire, look at you from across this table and from the shadow cast by the clock across the way at the same time. Disorienting, but doable, and I'm sure that if I did it often enough, it would be no problem at all. And the more I looked, doubtless the more I would feel compelled to act. I cannot do anything about disease or old age, and I'm hard pressed against the aphids and tomato worms in my garden sometimes, but I could certainly prevent accidents or crimes world wide, given enough time. Right now, I could, with a thought, eliminate Luthor's little fraternity. The same for any member of the JLA or JSA who annoyed me. A thought, and into the Shadowrealm you go. I could remake the earth in my image. And do you know what's stopping me? It's not any of you. It's me. _I don't want to be your god_.

"I am more afraid of that than anything else, that once I changed my mind, gave into the temptation to right the thousand wrongs I see each day, to be The Moving Finger ... what then? Because if I started, really started, what then? I could be stopped -- I'm not so full of hubris that I don't think I couldn't -- but, _oh_, what price?

I eased back in my chair and smirked at him. "Of course, I could be lying to you about the scope of my powers." Or, Dr. Fate could have been lying to me to me all those years ago in an attempt to flatter me and bend me to his own ends. Either way, I don't feel compelled to test it.

Silence.

"I see." He said.

"Look. I shall be ... I shall try very hard -- you have my word as a gentleman upon it -- to be more subtle and restrained in the future. I know I frightened and shocked all of them rather badly. My ire is seldom raised, but a certain kind of cruelty guarantees it."

We shook hands and he left.

It has been some hours and I have not yet stirred myself to go back and decimate the aphids. Instead, I fear I shall spend the rest of the day taking a good look at myself in the mirror, damn him.


End file.
